colours and promises
by fabricated fantasies
Summary: Every breath, every hour has come to this; one tale among the many that we weave - a Christmas drabble collection - on haitus
1. AliceFrank

_a/n _It seems I'm starting yet another collection - but this time, there's a theme, and comprises completely of drabbles. Welcome, dear readers, to **Listen's Christmas Drabble Extravaganza**, or as it's more commonly known, **colours and promises**.

This collection is a set of drabbles that centers around Christmas, obviously. They can be any era, pairing, genre or character - the only criteria is that they have to have something to do with Christmas. There will be exactly 25 of these, one for each day leading up to Christmas.

Many thanks to my wonderful fiancee, Blue, for the prompts and pairing. This is also dedicated to her, because I know how much she loves these two.

One last thing - I take requests ;)

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AliceFrank ;; snowflake, silver bells, peppermint

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Her laughter rings around the lake like the pealing of silver bells, bouncing off the water and rebounding back to them with such mirth that he has to laugh with her.

"Really, Frank - you think Lily's in love with James? You might not want to mention that ridiculous theory to Lily if you want to live," Alice says through her chuckles, and he bites back the retort that comes to his lips when she takes his hand in her frozen one. He's not going to negate what progress he's made so far with her to push his point, even if he knows he's right.

Something cold lands in his hair, chilling his scalp in an instant, and he rakes his hand through his hair impatiently, making it stand up on end. "Someone overused the gel this morning," she teases, and he frowns, which only makes her smile more.

"You know how I feel about my hair," he complains, a frown which deepens when another fragile droplet of snow clinging to a tree overhead drops down to slide on the bridge of his nose. He hates the cold, and the only reason he agreed to come out here was because Alice begged him to, which is completely – he sneaks a sideways look at her – worth it. Her cheeks are a flushed pink which matches shell coloured lips which part as she tries to catch a snowflake on her tongue.

"Come on," she tugs his hand, pulling him directly beneath a snow laden tree which threatens to heap snow upon their heads. Despite his deep hatred of snow and the cold, she wants him to dance in the snow with her, so he does, and he twirls her around as a flurry of snowflakes swirl around them like they are dancing too.

She pauses, out of breath, her boundless energy spent for once, and leans her head on his shoulder. His arm curls around her automatically, and she shifts so that her short frame is slumping against his chest.

"Merry Christmas," she whispers, and he realises this is their first Christmas together. His lips stretch into a goofy smile, and he's glad that she can't see the look in his eyes when he tenderly kisses the top of her hair, which smells peculiarly like peppermint candy canes. Merry Christmas indeed.

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Please review! =]


	2. RemusSirius

_a/n_ For Lovisa [lowi], because she's as close to perfect as anyone can ever be.

Warning! This chapter contains slash and mentions of sex. If you're uncomfortable with that, kindly don't continue reading. Thank you.

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RemusSirius ;; candle

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He blows the candles out with a soft whoosh of hot breath, and rolls over onto his side to allow his head to sink into the fluffy pillow that is his one extravagance. One candle stays lit, fanning light over the cramped room.

He can hear Sirius stirring beside him, and can all too easily imagine the uncomfortable look on his face, torn between staying here and fleeing. He believes – hopes, really, since Sirius is far too flighty and unpredictable – that the other boy will stay with him, since they're actually going out and for once this isn't a fling.

The breath stops in his throat when the expanse of bed beside him dents with by Sirius' weight, and the sound of bare feet padding across his carpeted floor sounds far too loud to his sensitive ears.

"Where are you going?" he asks, his voice a hoarse whisper, and he sits up and covers himself with the blankets when Sirius turns back to look at him. The dark haired boy shifts, and Remus feels worthless, cheap – like every other whore that has taken Sirius to their bed. Of course he would leave, it's what he's always done, but was it too much to ask that for once he would stay?

"You're leaving," he says, his voice a monotone with only a slight crack marring his sentence, and he tries to physically hold himself together by wrapping his arms around his thin frame. "It's Christmas, and you're leaving me like I'm just another-"his voice breaks. "Like I'm not your boyfriend, and you have to escape my room before I can force you into a relationship you don't want."

Sirius looks ashamed, and Remus makes himself look at him, amber eyes meeting orbs of swirling chaos. They stay there, Sirius swaying slightly, while Remus is a frozen statue curled up against the headboard.

"I'm sorry." Remus breaks the silence in a voice like burning coal, and Sirius seems to stand up straighter, chaos turning to relief. The other boy is too proud to apologise, Remus knows, which is why he seems to do all the apologizing in their relationship. Besides, it's Christmas, and he's supposed to forgive Sirius' past and all the flaws and habits that go with it. "Why don't we not talk about this anymore, and play Exploding Snap? I think we still have a pack left from James' visit."

Sirius smiles faintly, and walks over to sit by the foot of the bed. And though the candle burns on and the two boys continue as if the last five minutes never happened, Remus can't help look over at his lover and wonder if he'll be able to stop him the next time he starts to leave.

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Please review! =] Any requests?


	3. Albus&Scorpius

**a/n **it kind of ran away from me this time, but oh well!

for the Best Friends Competition on the HPFC, and dedicated to the lovely **jane** =]

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Albus & Scorpius ;; friendship ;; "one loyal friend is worth ten thousand relatives"

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The heavy green curtains rustle in the wind, parting in the centre to allow the tiniest sliver of moonlight to dart through into the dormitories, accompanied by the twinkle of fairy lights strewn around the grounds in preparation for the approaching holidays. A red headed boy in the corner moans and rolls onto his side, startling the blonde teenager who lies in the bed opposite, his perfectly carved eyebrows creased in thought. He seems to come to a decision, and turns towards his other side.

"Albus?" Scorpius asks, his voice a harsh whisper battling with the winds howling outside. Their dormitory is the highest of all, being seventh years, and the only one with a window that actually peers above ground. The rest have a view of the underground lake, a sight which has always seemed rather dismal to him.

A sigh reaches his ears, and he grins, knowing how snappy Al gets when he's woken up early. "If this is about you putting charmed mistletoe above the Herbology greenhouse entrance so you could have an excuse to kiss Rose, I've already stolen your cat in revenge. So unless you've come up with a way for me to skip the Weasley family dinner, let me sleep."

"That's not what this is about," Scorpius replies, his smirking grin thankfully hidden in the darkness. Albus likes to think of smirking as belonging to him – though clearly the Malfoy family patented it long before he did.

"What is it, then? Unlike some people, I can't survive being around the miscreants we're supposed to call students for an entire day, particularly if I haven't gotten more than an hour of sleep," Albus retorts in his usual not so cheery manner, his dark hair looking even more of a mess than normal. No matter what he does, he can't seem to keep his hair looking neat, unlike Scorpius' own chiselled platinum locks.

"No, I wanted to ask if you're still letting me come to the Weasley dinner even though you've been keeping Rose and me apart for weeks," he replies, torn between a cheeky grin and a dissatisfied frown. Just because he and Albus are best friends, and Rose and Albus are cousins, doesn't mean that he can keep Scorpius apart from his girlfriend. Or does it? He can never figure out Weasley/Potter logistics.

"_That's_ why you woke me up? I'm in half a mind to poison your pumpkin juice in the morning," his best friend threatens, but Scorpius is so used to his threats that he doesn't even blink.

"You wouldn't do that. You wouldn't survive Christmas without me," he states, the smirk reappearing. "What is it you always say? Oh yes - one loyal friend is worth ten thousand relatives, especially when that friend helps you through the horror that is a Weasley Christmas with said ten thousand relatives."

"Alright, I won't murder you tomorrow. I'm going to sleep now. Don't disturb me again, or Mr Fluffles gets it. I still have him hidden, you know." And with that parting statement, Albus rolls over, away from Scorpius, and goes back to sleep. Scorpius has only one regret – letting eleven year old Rose name his kitten _Mr Fluffles_ when he acquired it six years ago. Really, what was he thinking?

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Please review, it's always lovely to get feedback! =]


	4. RoxannePhoebe

_a/n_ dedicated to **Lovisa** [lowi], because she's amazing, amd it's her anniversary! Happy belated anniversary, love =]

Warning! This chapter contains a homosexual relationship between two women. If you feel uncomfortable with that, please don't continue reading. Many thanks.

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RoxannePhoebe ;; map

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Her hands trace a map on her skin, darting like fireflies in the valley of her waist, dancing along the curve of her stomach and coming to rest.

"Kiss me," she murmurs, because even though it's freezing cold and she's pretty sure that one of her girlfriend's cousins is spying on them from the top of the hill, it's also Christmas, and didn't that old explorer say something about sharing body heat to keep warm? Roxanne doesn't respond, and simply tilts her head to rest on Phoebe's now bare shoulders, where her sleeve has slipped down her arm.

"Lie down with me instead," Roxanne replies sleepily, though how she can feel tired when they're lying on an icy patch of snow is beyond Phoebe, who sighs and trains her eyes on an icicle hanging from the lowest branch of a leafless tree nearby.

"I guess you'll just have to miss out on your surprise, then," she teases, shifting her gaze to Roxanne's face, satisfied when the girl's eyes flick open immediately. She can never resist surprises; she has to know anything and everything, and nothing irks her more than information she knows is being purposely withheld from her.

"There's a surprise?" Roxanne asks suspiciously, though her eyes look curiously in the direction of the house, where she is sure her surprise is hidden.

"Yep." She ignores Roxanne's pleading face with the restraint of someone with years of practice, but can't help relenting when the girl reaches up and strokes the hollow between Phoebe's ear and her skin, a spot that inexplicably weakens her.

"Here," she says, pulling the tiniest sprig of mistletoe from where she has hidden it in the snow, and holding it aloft where the crimson berries glisten starkly against their ashen surroundings.

"Mistletoe. You can never take no for an answer, can you?" Roxanne questions with a roll of her eyes, though the smile on her face betrays the fact that she kind of loves it when Phoebe wants her like that.

"I can't help loving you this much," Phoebe replies, dropping the mistletoe in the snow again and kissing her girlfriend soundly, because even though it's freezing cold and Louis is still up on that hill, it's Christmas and she loves her too much to care about anything else.

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As always, I really appreciate any and all feedback I get, so please review =]


	5. JamesLily

_a/n_ dedicated to **Vicky** [incandescent dreams] because it's Christmas and she loves these two =]

I tried doing something a little different this time; let me know if it actually works! ;)

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JamesLily ;; glimmer

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The city lights glimmer hotly on the water, a few blinking out as they are eclipsed by a pair of shadows moving across the bridge. The photographer moves his camera in irritation, adjusting it to peer around the figures so he can get the picture he came for and go home. It's Christmas, and his family is waiting for him – a wife and a son and a newborn baby girl with blue eyes that shimmer like stardust.

He looks up at the bridge, the figures parting just as his gaze locks on them, the tall of the two bending down and kneeling on the worn surface of the old bridge. The photographer rolls his eyes. Yet another photograph ruined by yet another proposal between two people who find the Seine the most romantic place to get engaged, and are likely to divorce within a year of their marriage.

Snatches of conversation drift across the water to him, though he pays little attention. Capturing the last photograph for his collection is far more important than a pair of lovers who are probably not even French, and completely cliche for proposing on Christmas Eve.

"-and I know you wanted to wait-"

"James..."

"-marry me." Evidently the woman acquiesces, because the photographer catches sight of her striking red hair against the softly lit landscape as she flies into the man's arms. Light glints off something; their clothing, perhaps, or a watch? Glasses maybe, he wonders, then berates himself for getting caught up in another couple's fairytale.

He sighs. Clearly he won't be getting that picture tonight. Packing up his camera, he looks up again, finding his eyes strangely drawn to the pair on the bridge. They are entwined together, and as he watches, seem to disappear into thin air, leaving behind no trace of being there apart from a soft pop that reaches his ears. He shakes his head at the impossibility, and walks away. The glittering lights on the water must be playing tricks on his mind tonight.

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Please review! =]


	6. MollyAngus

**a/n **for the amazing **lovisa**, again for her anniversary =]

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MollyAngus ;; invisible

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She knows she's done for the moment he smiles at her, just a tiny quirk of his lips sent in her direction across the table, a motion that seems so perfect and significant to her fifteen year old mind. Every tiny action of his requires hours of mental deliberation over whether he's thinking about her. She thanks Merlin that everyone leaves Hogwarts at Christmas, because it gives her an excuse to talk to him without seeming like a stalker.

Her eyes drop from his face to his hands, one wound tightly in the grasp of another girl, and oh, it's like the worlds turns around and leaves her hanging upside down, because it was only a moment ago that she was convinced he loves her.

He smiles at her again, and she allows herself to hope that maybe she's mistaken, but then he turns away and kisses the other girl on the cheek, and she realises she's been fooling herself all along, because he doesn't love her. Of course he doesn't. She's only Molly Weasley after all, and it's easy for her to be invisible, like a ghost among the Christmas snow that covers the ground outside. _What a merry Christmas it's been_, she thinks bitterly, unable to tear her gaze away from the boy with the girl who will never be her.

Life goes by, and she pretends she's fine, and tries to stitch herself back together with moth eaten string and rusty needles, because she's as unwanted as always. She's not even good enough for a boy like _him_, who is kind and smart and sympathetic, the kind of boy she thought she would find her happily ever after with.

But slowly time creeps by without her noticing and counting every second since he unwittingly broke her heart, and eventually she can look at them without her heart threatening to splinter. She's only fifteen, after all, and the easiest thing in the world to do is fall in and out of love.

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Angus McLaggen is the son of Beth & Cormac McLaggen, the older brother to Carla McLaggen, and is a Ravenclaw. Just a little background information ;)

As always, reviews are love, and I appreciate every single one of them. Please review! =]


	7. Bellatrix

**a/n **warning: mentions of death

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Bellatrix ;; dark star

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The snow swirls around her feet like a storm, in perfect harmony with the wind howling in her ear in outrage at what she has done, what she is about to do. The path she walks is covered in snow, but she knows where she is going, and the whole scenario plays out in her mind as a wicked smile dances across her lips, mocking anyone who cares to look. There is no one out here to see her, of course, because it's Christmas and they are all inside, making merry with their families.

She steps onto the frost laden doorstep and wordlessly forces the door to open, her wand sparking briefly in her hand. Her feet tread down the wooden hallway as silent as a cat, scattering ice over the spotless floorboards, only stopping when a figure lunges out of a nearby doorway, pointing their wand in her face like they even have a chance.

They don't, of course they don't, because she's always been a little bit fragile, this little girl with a heart made of glass and eyes like dark stars, and she's always been loyal to those she loves, and for them she will do anything. But she is a little girl no longer, and she shows no mercy as she murders the woman who dared defy her, cruel laughter bubbling out of her throat in a sound that betrays her true insanity.

A noise in a room nearby alerts her to the presence of the woman's family, and she strides in their direction, her wand gripped loosely in her fingers. She is ruthless and unforgiving in her slaughter and torture of them, because the Dark Lord requested it and she will never question his orders. She is certain that he loves her like she does him, though her love teeters dangerously on the edge of obsession. Her laughter is the backdrop to their dying screams, and she smiles as the last child drops to the floor, as silent in death as all the others.

She walks away, out the corridor and back into the flurry of snow drifting from the pale sky, leaving behind no trace of her presence besides still bodies and _Bellatrix Black_ carved into the wall in words like dripping blood. Later, the Order of the Phoenix will mourn the loss of one of their own, but the Dark Lord's most devoted servant pays no attention to the consequences of her action as the snow swirls around her feet, a mocking smile dancing on her lips.

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Hopefully this ended up being legitimately creepy and in-character, but feel free to tell me that I messed it up. Either way, please review! =]


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